


rings and all

by dreamember



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M, robert has a lot of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 00:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8307598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamember/pseuds/dreamember
Summary: Sure, they could grow old without rings on their fingers.But Robert wanted to grow old with Aaron, rings and all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I started writing a thing last night, and it grew into this. An exploration of sorts (I guess?) into Robert’s mindset. Possibly just a ramble, but I had a lot of Feelings that I needed to express. 
> 
> I also wanted to have this posted before tonight's ep, so haven't spent as much time editing as I usually do (literally 15 minutes instead of my usual hours) and have essentially posted the first draft, but hopefully there's not any glaring mistakes. I'll probably go through it again properly at some point.

“It’s not what I’ve done... it’s what I’m about to do.” Robert could feel the cool steel of the fryer under his palm and tried to focus on the sensation. It did little to steady the shake in his hands, the shake that seemed to reverberate through his body. It did even less to steady his thundering heart, hammering against his ribcage at an alarming pace.

Victoria frowned, eyes warily assessing him, “and what _are_ you about to do?”

“Buy a ring,” he managed to say after a moment of silence. There was a flicker of recognition in his sister’s eyes, but she waited, wordlessly urging Robert to confirm her suspicions, “for Aaron... I’m about to buy a ring for Aaron.”

“Like... an _engagement_ ring?” He nodded. It was all he could do as his nerves finally took hold of his throat and squeezed, but that was nothing in comparison to the bear-hug that Victoria locked him in after she had launched herself across the kitchen. She squealed in his ear as the words spilt out in an excited ramble, “that’s amazing, Rob! Oh my god! I can’t believe it!”

Neither could he, truth be told.

* * *

The thought had first crossed his mind last night, as he listened to Aaron’s breathing shallow out beside him and words from their earlier conversation began to circle. There's never been a shadow of doubt in his mind that he loves Aaron, loves him with every fibre of his being. It’s the strongest feeling he’s ever had for someone.

_(Sounds like a serious commitment to me.)_

He’d never bothered to think about a future with Chrissie. He cared for and loved her, yeah, but did he think about their lives a year, two years, twenty years into the future? No. Not once. When Robert had proposed, he hadn't even thought about it. They’d been dating for just over a year, had been living together for a few months... engagement was just the next step. All of their mutual (and very married) friends had agreed.

But with Aaron... he’d been making plans from the moment Aaron let him back in and gave him another chance. What they’d do at Christmas, what he’d buy for Aaron and what he’d save for his birthday, what they’d do for their first valentines, what they’d do for their first anniversary. All without intention, and not because it was just 'the next step'. He could envisage a future, a long future... just because he hadn’t verbalised it didn’t make his own thoughts any less of a serious commitment.

 _(I think you’d make a lovely husband._  
_Yeah? Which one?_  
_Both of them.)_

But marriage... could he envisage that? Simultaneously being and _having_ a husband. He’d forced himself to imagine the moments, snapshots of a hypothetical future - opening the box and waiting on Aaron’s answer with baited breath. Attempting to do his tie with trembling hands, before Diane bats them away and does it for him, beaming at him with motherly pride. Standing at the altar in the barn _(their barn)_ as he says _‘I do’_ and watching the smile burst across Aaron’s face...

Making coffee in the backroom... early morning sunlight catching metal as Aaron reaches out with his left hand.

He'd felt his heart trip and stumble, heard his own breath hitch in his throat and rolled his head the left. Towards the body beside him. With legs hidden away and tangled with his own under the duvet, arm swung across Robert’s stomach and face so close he could feel each small puff of breath on his skin.

Maybe...

_(So, here’s to not getting married.)_

Aaron hadn’t even mentioned marriage, not at first. _You’d better stick around as well. At least till you’re 80 or something._ It was an offhand comment, lacking the weight such words would so often carry, but as soon as Robert had joked about _serious commitment_ , he’d watched as the look of realisation flooded Aaron’s face. He’d seemed surprised, even slightly confused, so Robert decided to help Aaron and laugh it off. Perhaps he could’ve been more tactful but why change the habit of a lifetime?

As he'd directed his gaze back towards the ceiling, though, Robert couldn’t seem to stop his mind from racing and analysing the moment. Had it been a hint on Aaron’s behalf? A sign that he’d seriously considered their future together? That he not only wanted to but could actually _imagine_ himself growing old with Robert? Because sure, the words had caught them both by surprise, but there was no smoke without fire...

And what to take from his silence, his lack of denial and attempts to quickly change the conversation? They could grow old without a piece of paper and rings on their fingers, sure, but Aaron didn’t exactly fight Victoria when she’d mentioned _marriage_ and _husbands_. The rejection of the idea had come later. After Robert had called the idea daft.

“Stop it,” had been the grumble from beside him that startled him from his thoughts. The hand on his stomach slipped to grab Robert’s hip as Aaron pulled himself closer, “stop thinkin’ s’loudly ‘n sleep.”

“Sorry. Can’t seem to switch off.”

At that, Aaron had propped himself up, alert and slightly alarmed, to frown down at Robert, “something wrong? You're usually sparko right away.”

“No, nothing’s wrong. They just make you think, don't they? Funerals. About life.”

“Bit deep innit?”

Robert had laughed and gently stroked the fine hairs on Aaron’s arm, from his wrist up to his shoulder, before he lightly dragged his fingernails back down his inner arm. Aaron, like putty in his hands, had then lowered himself back down and moulded their bodies together. Two broken little jigsaw pieces that fit together without force or extra effort.

Sure, they _could_ grow old without rings on their fingers.

But Robert wanted to grow old with Aaron, rings and all.

* * *

And that’s how he ended up here, standing inside one of Leeds' finest jewellers and frowning at the collection of rings in front of him. When he’d proposed to Chrissie, buying a ring was easy – just get the one that looked the most impressive. It was probably the simplest part. But Robert doesn’t even know how to go about buying an engagement ring for a man, let alone a man like _Aaron_.

“Can I help you, sir?” Asks the sales assistant as she slides up to him, glancing between the deepening frown on Robert’s face and the bands behind the glass.

“Yeah, um. I’m buying an engagement ring. Trying to anyway, but I don’t even know where to start.”

“Oh, well, we have a collection of lovely diamond–”

“No!” His breath shakes as he regathers himself, smiling hesitantly at the woman who now appears slightly startled by his outburst, “it-it’s for a man. My boyfriend," he huffs and drags a hand over his face, "Sorry for snapping, I didn’t think this’d be so stressful.”

The woman – Cathleen, her nametag reads – shakes her head, placing a hand on his forearm, “don’t apologise, I shouldn’t have assumed. We have several collections of male engagement rings if you’d like to look at them? What do you think he would like, your boyfriend?”

“Something simple,” is the immediate response, “he’s not- he’s not _showy_ , but I don’t want it to be plain, either. I want it to be special...”

“What line of work is he in?”

“He’s a, uh... a scrapper, but works as a mechanic too, sometimes. Why?”

“Just to help narrow things down. If he’s likely to wear it all the time, then perhaps one of our more delicate rings may not be suitable. If you want to follow me to the desk, I can show you what we have available.”

* * *

The ring catches his eye immediately. There’s several rings, all swimming in a sea of velvet, but mostly golds and silvers. Apart from one, hidden in the back corner, almost shying away from the more standout choices, but drawing Robert in like a moth to a flame. The embodiment of Aaron, and everything that Robert loves about him. He instantly indicates towards it.

“Can I see that one?”

Cathleen smiles at him, almost knowingly, and nods, “I have a soft spot for this one. I can’t quite put my finger on why... I guess it just has an understated beauty about it. You can only see the detailing if you get close enough. It's quite breathtaking, in an unusual way.”

“Sounds like Aaron.” Robert only intends to whisper it, more in conversation with himself, but Cathleen’s face softens into something akin to awe. At any other moment in time, he’d make feeble attempts to cover up his words and bite back the self-consciousness that bubbles away whenever he lets his love for Aaron slip. But that love is what brought him here. If he can’t allow himself to savour such a momentous moment like this, what can he savour?

“Aaron sounds like a very lucky guy, to have a boyfriend who loves him as much as you clearly do.”

He shakes his head, not quite able to shake the smile from his face, “I’m the lucky one.”

* * *

He’d always thought it so cliché, to say that the box was burning a hole through his jacket, but as Robert slides back into his car, the sensation seems to flood him. He goes as far as to lift a hand to his chest, just to check it hasn’t been set alight.

When he'd bought Chrissie's ring, Robert had slipped it away much the same - deep into the inside pocket of his jacket - but then he'd gone about his day without giving it a second thought. No weighing his pocket down or burning sensations. He'd believed his calmness was a good thing, that his composure was a sign of how certain he was about Chrissie. But on reflection, he thinks that maybe, somewhere deep inside, he didn't care if she said yes or not.

Robert daren't even contemplate Aaron saying no.

* * *

When he'd set off from Leeds, Home Farm had been the last thing on his mind, but somewhere along the country lanes, he decides to take the turn.

Once, Rebecca had been a temptation he struggled to resist. It was after a row with Chrissie, somewhere close to his 27th birthday, and the youngest White sister had been giving him the eye since she arrived for a visit two weeks prior. One semi-sober fumble turned into a second sober rendezvous, transformed into a third, fourth, fifth – until the day she left. A holiday hook-up, that’s all it was. So part of him had expected her to make some kind of pass at him when he called for her help.

He’d rejected her advances several times, images of Aaron flashing before his eyes, but he’d be a liar if he said there hadn’t had a fleeting moment of consideration and morbid curiosity when she’d slipped her hand around his neck.

 _“Let me think about it.”_ He’d told her, stepping away to regain his breath. Robert had no interest in throwing his relationship with Aaron away, especially not for some meaningless fuck with his parasitic ex-wife’s sister. But the prospect of teaming up with Rebecca and getting his hands back on Home Farm... yeah, he considered it. The house had that kind of effect on him, some strange kind of pull.

But then he’d stepped outside, heard the crunch of gravel underfoot as he approached his car, felt the breeze on his cheeks, remembered a cold January afternoon and his voice telling Aaron, _“don’t get cold feet, you’ll make me think I fell for a quitter.”_

There was only one thing he wanted more than Home Farm, and as he headed back to the pub, he knew exactly what he wanted to do.

But now he’s back, tires slowly rolling across the gravel until he stops at the front door. There’s a ring in his pocket for the man he loves, and he realises that yeah, part of him still wants Home Farm. But he wants a lot of things. Wants his old Audi R8, wants the shirt he saw in a shop window the other day, wants a Full-English every morning.

He _wants_ a lot of things, but he doesn’t _need_ them.

And one thing he needs is Aaron.

* * *

Rebecca stands in front of him, wearing a thin robe and probably little else underneath. She smiles at him, expectant and smug. As if she knew he’d return. His heart stutters slightly. Rebecca White is an attractive woman, he’d never contest that, but it isn’t lust that causes such a reaction within him. It’s fear. Fear that, even though he didn’t come here for _her_ , lust will cloud his mind and make him do something, to use Victoria’s words, _stupid_.

Robert’s hand is balled against the chair arm, and he remains motionless as she saunters over, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and leaning in. The voice in his mind is screaming, _bellowing_ at him, but up pops that morbid curiosity again, nudging him closer until her lips on his...

And that’s it. A press of lips.

No burst of desire, no need for more.

 _Nothing_.

All he can think about is how much he misses the gentle scratch of stubble, and the slightly chapped lips of his boyfriend. This is usually where he takes the sledgehammer to his relationships, begins to take other people to bed just to satisfy the hunger within him. For so long he’d believed that desire was purely sexual, attached to the greed that seemed to poison Robert at a young age... but maybe it was something else entirely... something that has been cured by how content, how happy, how _whole_ he feels with Aaron.

The thought draws Robert back, and he can feel Rebecca’s eyes on him as he edges away from her.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“For what?”

“For proving I feel absolutely nothing for you.”

There’s disappointment in her eyes, perhaps even a flash of hurt, and Robert feels a little guilty for using Rebecca like this. He hadn’t seen it before, back when he only had one thing on his mind whenever their eyes met, but now, with a clear head, Robert realises that somewhere along the line Rebecca had developed _something_ for him. It’s there when he turns down her offer. When he tells her that sleeping her was too easy. When he turns away, and she calls his name.

_Robert, wait!_

Aaron had said the same thing, that day at the layby.

“Just one last kiss,” Rebecca says.

_(“Just one last goodbye,” Aaron had pleaded, on the day of his wedding.)_

Maybe it’s Aaron’s voice in his mind that allows him to lean in for a moment, or maybe he feels guilty about leading yet another one of his flings on, but he quickly catches himself and pulls away. He doesn’t want it. He doesn't  _need_ it. It would mean nothing, to Robert at least, but maybe the humiliation of rejection will finally encourage Rebecca to leave him alone. To leave him _and Aaron_ alone.

* * *

It almost feels like coming full circle, returning to the Woolpack with the ring in his jacket. Not just in returning to the kitchen to show the ring to Victoria – the one who has been encouraging and nudging him in the direction of Aaron since the affair was blown, and who could see through his bull each time he denied his want and love for Aaron – but generally.

It was in the Woolpack that he found out Aaron was gay.

It was in the Woolpack that he got Aaron into a bed for the first time.

It was in the Woolpack that he first told Aaron he loves him.

It was in the Woolpack that Aaron gave him a second chance.

And now, this pub that holds so many memories is the place that Robert calls his home. His home with the man he loves and is planning on spending the rest of his life with. The pub has been so central to his relationship with Aaron, continues to be, and probably will be for years to come.

* * *

“Not complainin’,” Aaron pants, huffing a weak laugh against Robert’s lips. Through the doors the pub continues to buzz, thrumming with activity, but Robert isn’t able to focus anything outside of this small corner that he’s bundled Aaron into. He’s unable to resist tilting his head to steal another gentle kiss, and Aaron allows it before continuing in a horse voice, “but what were that for?”

“Because I wanted to,” Robert shrugs, “because I can. Because I love you.”

_Because I want to grow old with you, till we’re 80 years old. Rings and all._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Find me on tumblr: [robertsugdn](http://robertsugdn.tumblr.com)


End file.
